


Ain't Love a Kick (In the Head)

by BookPirate



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crushes, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookPirate/pseuds/BookPirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin has a crush on Bellamy Blake and it fucking sucks, so she complains to her friends instead of doing something about it, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't Love a Kick (In the Head)

**Author's Note:**

> Crushes fucking suck. The end.
> 
> Oh! And for meckyona who wanted a link to my tumblr it's book-pirate.tumblr.com!!
> 
> Title from 'Ain't That a Kick In the Head' by Dean Martin

"Crushes suck," Clarke announces as she plops down on an empty bar stool.

Lincoln raises an eyebrow, but doesn't comment. "The usual?"

Clarke sighs and props her head up in her hand. "You know me too well. Don't you want to know why I said crushes suck?"

"I'm assuming it's because they do?" Lincoln slides her the double shot of whiskey she usually has on days like this.

"Right." Clarke looks a little disgruntled at his logic. She tosses the whiskey back. "Hit me again, barkeep."

He pours her more whiskey, slides it to her silently. As she tosses that one back, too, he pops the cap of a hard cider off, and slides it in front of her. "That's probably enough whiskey for a school night, Clarke."

She blows a raspberry, but picks up the cider anyways. "So, do you want to hear about my crush or not?"

"Sure." Lincoln's learned over his years of being friends with Clarke that she'll tell him things whether he wants to hear them or not, so he just goes with the flow now.

"So, you know that Art History class I'm taking?" Clarke starts picking at the label on the bottle. "Anya's?"

"Yeah, the one with the guy you said is going to die old and alone, eaten by rats and other vermin like him?"

Clarke blushes. "Right, about that…"

Lincoln holds her gaze for a second, before bursting into laughter. "What happened to 'he's a dick who doesn't know his ass from his face'?"

"It's not my fault he's actually a good person underneath all that!" she responds hotly. "I got paired with him for an assignment, and, well, after an initial blow up, I discovered why he's such a dick."

"Well?"

Clarke sighs. "Well, it turns out he's been basically taking care of his sister since he was 18, and, okay, yeah, hating people because they're rich is an asshole move, he's had to work three jobs since he was 15. I don't really blame him."

"So, now that you understand him, you're in love?" Lincoln is pretty skeptical. He was there for Lexa, and Clarke thought she knew her, and that ended badly.

"No, he's still an ass." Clarke peels the remainder of the label off her bottle, and rolls it into a little ball. "Just, a hot ass I want to make out with. A lot."

The bar is starting to slowly fill up, so he has to go and do his job. "Well, good luck."

"Yeah, thanks for the liquor." Clarke gets up and stretches with a sigh. "Put it on my tab."

"So, you mean mine," Lincoln says in amusement.

Clarke sends him a sunny smile and a wave as she leaves. "Bye, Lincoln!"

He smiles and gets back to work. His best friend always brightens his day, even if she's just there to complain.

* * * * * *

"You have a crush on Bellamy Blake," Raven says, flat. "And you're just figuring this out now?"

Clarke splutters. "What do you mean 'just figuring this out now'?"

Her friend rolls her eyes, whacks the engine she's been working on with a wrench. "Ever since you first started complaining about him, I knew you wanted to bone him. I thought that's why you were complaining so much, because you knew."

"This stupid crush only started because I got to know him as a person, okay?"

"Then you're a lot stupider than I give you credit for."

"Hey!" Clarke frowns. "Whose side are you on anyway?"

"Yours," Raven answers simply, "and, because I'm on your side, I'm gonna give you some advice."

"Oh yeah? What is it?"

"Bone him."

Clarke splutters again. "It's not that simple."

Raven raises an eyebrow at her. "Why?"

"Because!" Clarke chews on her bottom lip. "If he's not into it, and I make a move, then I have to deal with having class with him for the rest of the semester! And it's going to be super awkward and weird." She pauses, then adds softly, "Plus, you know, I don't know if I can take being rejected again."

Raven sets down her wrench with a sigh, turns to Clarke, and grasps her shoulders gently. "Clarke, sweetie, listen to me. If you don't want to ask Bellamy out, that's fine. But don't do it because you're afraid of being rejected. You're awesome, and anyone would kill to be with you."

Clarke can feel tears welling up in her eyes, so she grabs Raven in a hug. "Thanks."

"I'd always pick you first," Raven whispers into her hair. "I promise." Then, she pushes Clarke back, clearing her throat a little. "Now, I still think you should ask him out. I need details on what that boy looks like naked."

* * * * *

"So, let me get this straight." Monty snaps off his gloves, throws them in the garbage bin before turning in his chair to look at Clarke. "You're complaining to every single one of your friends -"

"Except Jasper," Clarke interjects.

"- except Jasper," Monty adds, "about your crush, but you're not going to do anything about it?"

"Nope." Clarke pops the 'p'.

"Jesus, Clarke, get your life together." Monty shuts down his computer. "If you're anticipating the crush going away, then why do you keep bringing it up?"

"Because you're my friend!" Clarke protests. "Because I tell you things!"

Monty scoffs. "Look, you want justification for your decision to not act on your feelings. I'm not giving it to you. I think you should ask him out."

Clarke frowns. "I'm not asking him out."

"Do it, or I'm doing it for you."

"What? This is totally unlike you!" Clarke follows him out of the lab. "Monty, what the hell?"

"I know, I know, usually I wouldn't get involved, but," Monty pauses, a mischievous grin on his face, "Miller is friends with him."

Clarke pales. "Oh."

"Yeah, and apparently, he's got a thing for you, too."

"I don't." Clarke bites her bottom lip. "That doesn't change anything."

Monty rolls his eyes. "Denial isn't just a river in Egypt."

"Yeah, whatever, I need booze." Clarke sighs. "Come on, let's go to Grounders."

* * * * *

"Bellamy Blake!" Clarke exclaims happily. "What brings you to this town of neck?"

"It's the end of the week, so I wanted to wind down." He looks over her head, amused, at Monty. "How much has she had to drink?"

"I resent the implications of that question!" Clarke frowns for a moment, thinking. "I've only had six beers."

"Eight," Monty corrects.

"Eight beers!" Clarke smiles. "That means I can have two more!"

"I think you've had enough," Bellamy says. "Maybe Monty can take you home."

"No!" Clarke grabs on to Bellamy's arm, hugging it like a koala would a tree. "You just got here!"

Bellamy looks down at her, baffled. "I'll see you Monday, princess, like I usually do."

"I hate that name." Clarke frowns again. "Why can't you just call me Clarke?"

"Well, don't you think you  _are_ a princess?"

"No." Clarke snuggles further into his side. "Why do you think I am?"

Bellamy flushes, looks at Monty, who shrugs. "Um."

"It's because I'm spoiled and rich, isn't it," Clarke says sadly, dropping Bellamy's arm. "You don't like me. See, Monty? I knew it."

"Of course I like you, Clarke. What are you talking about?" He looks up at Monty.

"I think I'm gonna go and call Miller to pick us up." Monty awkwardly shuffles away, leaving Bellamy with Clarke.

"Clarke?"

She looks up at him, eyes shining with tears. "You know crushes are stupid, right?"

He really has no idea where this is going. "Okay?"

She sighs. "Well, I have one on you, and it's stupid, because you don't like me, and I don't even blame you."

"You, you like me?" Bellamy feels like he's having an out of body experience.

"Yeah," she says, in a small sad voice. "It's a minor incon-inconvienience."

His heart feels full to bursting. "Why haven't you ever said anything?"

"Because I knew you didn't like me, and I didn't want to make class awkward. It's okay, you don't have to worry about it."

"What? That's, that's," he splutters. "Oh, for fucks sake," he mutters, before cupping her face and pressing his lips to hers.

It's glorious, and everything he ever wanted, as soon as Clarke Griffin walked into his life. He regrets being an ass to her, but she was rich and opinionated, which he thought meant she was an entitled brat. But he knows better now, and he's half in love with her. Of course he's not going to let this opportunity pass him by, even if she hates him in the morning. 

He breaks off the kiss after a few moments, and presses his forehead to hers when she makes a whiny noise. "I wasn't done kissing you."

"We can kiss more later," he promises, "when you're sober."

"I'm sober enough!" she protests. "I like kissing!"

"And, apparently me." He grins at her.

She smiles softly back. "And you."

They smile like that for a few moments, before Clarke scrunches her nose and presses her forehead against his shoulder with a groan. Bellamy pats her head, marveling at the fact that he can do it now. "Too much to drink?"

"No," she says, petulant. "But, maybe you should take me home. To bed." She starts kissing his neck, and he jolts backwards.

"Woah, Clarke." He puts his hands on her shoulders and pushes back a little. She pouts up at him, but he continues. "I have another idea. How about Miller and Monty take you home, and then I'll stop by in the morning, and see if you remember this."

"Of course I'll remember. I'm insulted." Clarke frowns again. "Are you sure we can't kiss again?"

He smiles. "Oh no, we can definitely kiss again."

"Oh, that's good." Clarke says, bright and happy.

"Definitely good," he murmurs before catching her lips with his.

* * * * *

Clarke is woken up by a pounding at her door that she thinks originates in her head. She blinks and groans as she tries to get her hair out of her mouth with her tongue. She groans, gives up, and uses her hands instead.

More pounding on her door has her rolling out of bed with another groan. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Hold your fucking horses!" she shouts, before muttering to herself, "Jesus Christ."

She sways and curses, rubbing her eyes on the way to the door, before throwing it open and finding, "Bellamy?"

His smile is nervous. "Hey, Clarke."

"What're you doing here at," she looks around for a clock, "fuck, what time is it?"

"11:30?" His smile falters a little. "Don't you remember last night?"

Clarke rubs her forehead, tries to think back. "Um, I was drinking with Monty, but I just woke up, and I need coffee. Here, come in." She steps back to let Bellamy in, and then walks to the kitchen. "Why? Did something happen last night?"

"No." Bellamy sighs. "Maybe I should go."

Clarke frowns over at him. "Well, at least have some coffee."

"Sure." He walks over and stands next to her to watch the coffee maker. "It's a nice place you have here, Clarke."

"What, no princess?" Clarke tries to tease, but she's sure it comes out harsher than it should, due to her hangover.

He ducks his head, and she thinks she can see some blush. "You told me you didn't like it, so, um, I thought I'd stop."

Clarke gapes at him for a minute, opening and shutting her mouth, trying to remember the previous night. "You, you showed up, and I was talking about how crushes suck…"

He gives her a wry smile. "Maybe not so much when they're reciprocated, right?"

Clarke thinks she can remember them kissing, but it's very hazy. Still, in the morning light, with Bellamy's soft eyes on her, it seems like it's the easiest thing in the world to reach up and press her lips to his.

He responds immediately, which quells any fears she had about him not being into her. His lips move against her slowly at first, but then more urgently, and she responds in kind. She grips his hips as he cards his fingers through her hair, angling her jaw so he can kiss her deeply. She moans into his mouth and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth.

He backs her up and onto the counter, and she slips her hands under his shirt, raking her nails over his abdomen. He groans and drops his forehead onto her shoulder. She grins and presses a kiss to his temple. "Hi."

"Hey." He chuckles, kisses her neck before straightening. "So, is last night coming back to you?"

"Mostly. We might have to do some more kissing for it  _all_ to come back, though." She runs her fingers through his hair, messing it up a little.

He kisses the inside of her wrist quickly. "So, do crushes still suck?"

"I don't know," she raises an eyebrow at him, "is it still a crush if your crush likes you back?"

"Good question." Bellamy smiles. "I think that's what you'd call dating."

"Ah, so  _that's_ what we're doing." She sends him a sunny smile in return.

Bellamy shakes his head, tsks. "I don't know. I didn't hear you ask me out."

She sighs. "Fine. Will you go out with me, Bellamy?"

"I don't know. I'll have to think about it," he says with a smirk.

"You're an idiot," she tells him, before pulling him in for another kiss.


End file.
